


Sit Next to Me

by LizzzBeth



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Anxiety, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), I mean obvi it's an AU, Keith (Voltron)-centric, M/M, Modern AU, Not Canon Compliant, Pining, Slow Burn, hell yes there is gonna be fluff, honestly im horrible at tagging, idk if im gonna put more POV's yet, im not a monster, ooooooo boy this is gonna be good didn't know those last two were gonna join us today, these are about to be some pining bois, these two are so fucking clueless you have no idea, yeah theres gonna be some college angst in there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-08 01:31:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15232407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzzBeth/pseuds/LizzzBeth
Summary: Three thoughts came to Keith’s mind all in the span of about a second;One, Lance was a fucking natural in front of the camera.Two, Lance was fucking beautiful in how much better he was at this than Keith could ever be.Three, how fucking dare he?~~~Keith Kogane is a film student trying to make his way through college before starting his career. He plans on leaving a mark on the world through the films he will make. The only problem? Degree requirements. Specifically the one that places him in a class that not only forces him out from behind the camera but also sits him next to one Lance McClain. Which wouldn't be a problem except for the fact that they are now partnered for their first film. Which also wouldn't be a problem except for the fact that Keith's wig has officially been snatched by Lance's acting skills. He only hopes that he can survive the semester. Not because of how hard the acting class might be or his other classes on top of that, but because his developing crush on McPerfect McClain might make him spontaneously combust.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been thinking about making this one-shot into a full fic for a while now. Well, here we are, making it happen. I honestly don't know how but we're gonna do this. Have fun reading! Let me know what y'all think!!

The spring semester started off cold and wet, dampening Keith’s already rotten mood. The pebble paved walkway on campus was slippery and the rocks were so uneven after almost a hundred years of being exposed to the elements that he could feel them through the soles of his shoes. And, of course, he had forgotten his umbrella, so his hooded jacket did little to protect him from the near-freezing late-January drizzle.

It also didn’t help that his first class of the day (and, subsequently, of the semester) was the one he was looking forward to the least. In fact, if he could, he wouldn’t look forward to it all. Maybe sideways or backward. He didn’t want this class in front of him, he wanted it to be as unrelated to his life as possible. But alas, it was a degree requirement.

Keith was a film major for a reason; to always be behind the camera. He wanted to be in control of the stories he presented and- dear God no he didn’t want to be in front of the camera at ALL. But one of the courses required to get his degree was Acting for the Camera and Keith was so bummed.

He finally got to the film building. It was a little house on one of the side streets surrounding the campus where Keith had spent most of his time over the last semester. The house was probably older than the university but was nowhere near as old as the town. It looked and smelled it too. The paint was peeling in places, the wooden floorboards were almost as warped as the glass windows and the smell was somewhere between moth-balls and a central cooling system that desperately needed fumigation. But it was cozy enough and almost always busy with students scrambling to complete projects.

Keith walked in the front French doors into the entryway at the base of the stairs and turned right towards the dining room- turned lecture area. Instead of desks there were white folding picnic tables with similar chairs all facing towards the front where a whiteboard looked really out of place on the far wall.

A few people were already there and Keith knew Professor Coran wouldn’t be downstairs until at least two minutes into class. So Keith took his usual seat next to one of the windows looking out onto the driveway, taking out a script he was already working on for his first solo short film. It was a labor of love and Keith loved combing through it, picking out mistakes to fix and adding in elements where needed.

However, Keith didn’t have two minutes of peace before someone quite violently sat down next to him, out of breath and already talking _loud_.

“Jesus, this place is way out of the way,” Said the brown-haired guy now sitting next to him, “I had no clue it was off campus.”

Keith just gave a (what he hoped was polite enough) shrug, and turned back to his script, hoping the new guy wouldn’t talk to him and instead start up conversation with another student. No luck.

“My name is Lance, by the way. You?”

Keith looked up at Lance then. He was tall, lanky but built, and was dressed in a blue sweater that didn’t have a drop of rain on it. Meanwhile, Keith was sure he looked like a drowned rat.

“Keith,” he said. Then he asked the most staple-college question, “What’s your major, Lance?”

Lance’s eyes lit up, “I’m an art major. I’m taking this class because it’s technically a form of art appreciation. Or at least that’s what my advisor told me. I’m so hyped for this class, though!” He put his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair, making the plastic creak, “I’ve always loved acting. Did four years of theatre in high school,” He looked at Keith, “What about you, man?”

Keith’s head was spinning by how much information he was suddenly doused with. Damn, this boy could talk. But he still managed to get out, “Film major.”

Lance leaned his chair back forward, a bit too violently seeing as how loud the smack was when the legs hit the abused wooden planks.

“Dude, that’s so cool!” Lance exclaimed, “You get to do this type of stuff all the time then!”

Lance’s enthusiasm kinda bugged Keith. Like how in Elementary school there was always that one kid that was almost _too_ excited for recess. That’s how Lance was to Keith… a bit annoying.

“No. I hate acting. I’m better with the camera.”

“No way! Acting is _so much better!_ Like, there was this one time that-“ And Lance kept talking on and on until, right on cue, two minutes into class, Coran walked in, and Lance blanched. Keith thanked whoever was listening for the sudden silence.

It didn’t last long, though.

 _“That’s the guy from General Hospital. And 7th Heaven. And Charlie’s Angels, what the fu-“_ Lance’s whispers to Keith were cut off as Coran cleared his throat.

The usual course introduction was given and, from the glances Keith made to his left, Lance was hanging on to every word. Keith really didn’t understand this guy. Coran was just their professor. They had all seen the TV footage from when students would dredge it up from YouTube to sneak it into their projects as a joke. He was a nice man and a great professor but Keith didn’t see any reason to get star struck about him, like Lance was currently doing. The guy’s eyes were practically the size of dinner plates.

Keith liked Coran. That is, up until today. It seemed like the universe had whispered in the professor’s ear and told him to aid it in making Keith absolutely miserable today.

“Alright, now that all of the syllabus crap is out of the way, let’s get down to business,” Coran spoke excitedly, “I haven’t professionally acted in a few years but I have done some small stuff to keep the machine well-oiled. And my motto is ‘acting is best learned through action’. So, if I could have a volunteer come up to the front, here?”

Keith tried as best as he could to sink down even further in his chair, trying to retreat into his jacket like a turtle would their shell.

Lance, however, shot his hand up immediately. So fast, in fact, that Keith could feel the breeze of it flying up. Coran, used to his fair share of eager pupils, didn’t seem fazed at all.

“Great! Come on up, young man,” He waved Lance to the front.

Lance stood up fast, as if someone would beat him to the spot next to Coran, even though he was the only one called up. Keith watched him walk to the front with a sort of jealousy that stemmed from the fact that Keith was never that outwardly eager to participate in in-class demonstrations. It just wasn’t the type of person he was.

“What’s your name, again?” Coran asked, having already forgotten it from when he called role.

“Lance McClain, sir,” Lance replied proudly. Keith half-expected him to salute.

Coran handed the boy a piece of paper that Keith could see was a piece of a script and set up a tripod camera pointed where the two were standing. Keith’s jealousy immediately disappeared. He may have to do acting in front of a camera for projects in this class but no way in hell would he ever act in-person in front of class. Keith relaxed a bit, leaning back in his chair, his still-wet jacket squishing a bit between his back and the plastic. Now he would see what all of Lance’s talk was about- or if Lance ever actually had anything to brag about at all. Acting in theatre and acting on camera were two entirely different things with different requirements. A lot of people could go through 4 years of high school theatre and still not know how to act for shit.

“Now,” Coran addressed not only Lance but the class as he took out a second script for himself and stood next to him, making sure they were angled correctly for the camera. Lance looked like he was about to faint with joy at the prospect of acting out a scene with a daytime TV actor.

“Remember, you have to lie to act. But you have to lie as if you’re telling the truth. Confusing, I know, but you don’t want the audience to catch you lying because then the illusion is broken.”

Keith scribbled down a few notes in his spiral as Lance read over the script real fast. From how jittery he appeared from Keith’s seat, Keith was sure he was gonna bomb it.

“Okay, you ready?” Coran asked, moving to the camera, pressing record when Lance gave him an affirmative.

Then they started acting through the script, reading the words black and white off the page but bringing the characters to life, making the scene colorful. Keith stared on, mouth hanging open almost flabbergasted.

Three thoughts came to Keith’s mind all in the span of about a second;

One, Lance was a fucking natural. Two, Lance was fucking beautiful in how much better he was at this than Keith could ever be. Three, how fucking dare he?

The scene ended, Lance bowed in a melodramatic form, the class politely gave an applause (including a slow, careful clap from Keith), and Coran turned off the camera.

“Great, Lance!” The professor slapped him on the back mid-bow, “I’ll take that script back and you can go take a seat.”

Lance walked back and took his seat as Coran hooked the camera up to the computer and turned on the projector that shined on the whiteboard behind him. He played back the tape of Lance’s scene but Keith wasn’t watching the screen. His eyes were trained on the wonder-boy next to him. Bullshit, he did not get that good just from high school theatre.

Lance, who felt Keith staring at him, turned and smiled wide. Keith, embarrassed about being caught staring, gave him a silent, awkward thumbs up and turned back to the front. Lance followed suit, but Keith couldn’t help stealing glances whenever he could. True, he could be getting vital notes out of Coran’s lecture, but he was distracted, alright? Plus, he already knew how this part of the lecture went from his friends who already took the course. Coran would replay the tape and point out places where Lance would improve. But, from what Keith saw, he wouldn’t have to point out much.

“-so that’s going to be the first project of the semester,” Keith didn’t even know he had zoned out staring at Lance until he heard Coran mention the assignment. He slightly panicked for a second, scrambling for his notebook to write down the details of the project, hoping that he didn’t already miss the whole thing. Damn Lance and his distracting face. _Wait no Keith was distracted by how strange and talented Lance was, not his face, no no no nonononono._

Coran, thankfully, continued with the goals of the project, “I will split you up into groups of two. Everyone has to act, so no hiding behind the camera. I’m looking at you, Mr. Kogane.”

Keith reddened and ducked his head. Lance didn’t seem to notice that’s who Coran was talking about and just chuckled along with the class.

“You need to find a duo scene from a film and recreate it on film. You may check out a tripod and a camera but please take care of them. We don’t want any more accidents with our equiptment.

Remember, cameras have feelings too. So don’t beat them up to make them cry, you must make them cry through your _acting_ ,” Coran finished with a flourish of his hand. Lance looked like he wanted to give a standing ovation right then and there.

Keith recognized other people in the class from last semester in his film class, so he didn’t mind getting paired up with any of them. True, there were a few of them that Keith had called a few choice words in his head who he definitely didn’t want to work with, but Keith could make it work with whomever Coran chose as his partner.

Wrong again, Keith-y boy.

“Now, I don’t have energy enough to cycle you off into groups. So I’m going to assume that you chose people to sit next to that you’re friendly enough with to work with. So the person you’re sharing a table with will be your partner for this project. Now, break off and start working. Or go home if you want- I’m going up to my office if anyone needs me.”

Keith’s head snapped up, eyes wide as the situation dawned on him. He would take the choice worded people, if he had too. He didn’t want to be humiliated with his subpar acting skills for the next two weeks.

Lance, however, looked ecstatic.

“Partners! Cool! When do you want to get started?” Lance asked Keith, turning his chair to face him.

Keith suppressed an instinctual groan, “I mean…” Keith thought for a moment, shooting a glare at Coran’s back for the betrayal he just subjected him to, “I guess, right now? And if you’re free tonight we could-“

“Hell yeah!” Lance cut him off, speaking a bit too loud for the closed off dining room class, then he whispered so only Keith could hear him, “We’re gonna make this so great, everyone else will be jealous.”

Keith was about to tell him that one-upping people wasn’t really the point of film, but Lance looped an arm around his shoulders excitedly and Keith’s sudden blush made him feel that he didn’t want to bring down the blue-sweatered boy’s mood. Which surprised Keith, because he kept telling himself that Lance’s enthusiasm was bugging him. That Lance’s talent was bugging him. That Lance, as a whole, was bugging him.

Nevertheless, Keith found a smile threatening to form as Lance let him go and whipped out a paper to start jotting down ideas.

With all of these conflicting feelings, Keith wasn’t just in for a long-ass two weeks. It was bound to be a long-ass _semester._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith broods. Shiro mocks. And Keith's first day back on campus is officially an anticlimactic shit show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is un-beta'd so please forgive any grammatical/spelling mistakes.

Keith and Lance stayed in the film house for about thirty minutes, bouncing ideas back and forth for their duo scene. Most of that time was spent by Keith reminding Lance about their technological and editing restrictions, them being in a college film class. So, no, they couldn’t realistically remake an argument during a car chase. And, no, they also couldn’t put a CGI alien on screen.

Keith liked Lance’s gusto. But Keith also wanted to limit his own time on screen. All in all, the meeting was filled with a lot of back and forth. The thirty minutes were enjoyable, though- ended all too soon by another one of Keith’s classes.

“Hold up!” Lance called to Keith as the dark-haired boy prepared to head out the double French doors of the house, back into the cold drizzle. Keith sure was regretting leaving his umbrella back in his dorm.

Keith turned back to Lance, who was holding out his phone to the other boy, “We should probably have each other’s numbers if we’re gonna meet up later. Put yours in my phone and I’ll text you mine.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure, dude,” Keith took the phone handed out to him.

It was a tiny iPhone 4, aged and cracked, making the keyboard a bit hard to see. Keith entered his number in fast and without complaint, though, before handing it back with a polite smile. Not a second later, his pocket buzzed with a text. Keith grinned to himself. _Who knew getting a guy’s number would be so easy?_

The two split ways, Keith heading back to the middle of campus towards his next class, Lance mentioning something about the Walgreens down the street. Lance gave a wave of his hand before popping his umbrella and leaving Keith to walk alone towards his next form of torture.

Sitting in his politics class, Keith silently thanked his past self for only scheduling two more classes for that day. Try as he might, he couldn’t focus. His mind kept drifting back to Boy Wonder. Lucky for him, syllabus contracts took up some class time. Unlucky for him, syllabus contracts only lasted 15 minutes out of the 50 minute class. Then started lecture. Looked like his politics professor wasn’t one of those to waste time. 

Normally, Keith would be fine with this.

Normally, Keith would be taking notes without a care in the world.

Then again, normally, he wouldn’t have just met Lance McClain.

Keith was furious.

He wasn’t the type to pine or brood over a crush. Hell, he wasn’t the type to develop a crush within _the first hour of knowing a guy._ Who the fuck was this guy to ruin the start of his semester? How dare he worm his way into Keith’s education. Obviously, this was some nefarious plot to uproot Keith’s graduation plan. Keith had places to be! Things to do! Films to create! He couldn’t waste his time in class thinking about some guy’s perfect acting skills and perfect smile and perfect,,, _everything_.

Unfortunately, by the time Keith decided to stop daydreaming, the professor dismissed the students, and Keith was on to his next class.

Geology was a nice distraction from Keith’s current… well… distraction. Geology was something tangible and solid. Literally. It was all rocks. Keith put his foot down while walking into the science building. This class was all going to be about rocks. Fuck Lance.

Actually, no, don’t think about that Kogane. Don’t you dare.

Keith settled into the lecture hall nicely. He ignored the fact that he had now walked through the rain three times today and, at this rate, might not even need to wash this set of clothes with how much water was embedded in them.

This was his last class of the day and, dammit, he was determined to get some learning done today. He whipped out his notebook with a flourish, set out his highlighters and pens, put his phone on silent and-

Of. Fucking. Course.

They only went over the syllabus and lab times before the professor dismissed them on account of it being the beginning of the semester.

So, yeah. Fuck Lance.

~~~

To say that Keith was in a bad mood when he met his brother for lunch at the Student Center was an understatement. He paid good money for this education and, so far, the first day was all ruined by a literal _dude_.

A dude and the rain. He couldn’t blame it all on Lance. The cold water in his jeans was starting to chafe him and that compounded onto his rotten outlook on the universe at that moment.

In fact, Keith was so busy brooding and boiling in his loathing that he didn’t notice Shiro walk up behind him. Well, until the moment Keith jumped out of his skin when Shiro grabbed him with a sharp yell. Keith spun around and pushed the now laughing older man while onlookers spared a halfhearted look at the weird professor and soaked-to-the-bone student.

“Shiro, dammit, stop doing that!”

“Aw, come on. That was funny and you know it.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna think it’s funny when I put a bad fake review on Rate My Professor.”

Shiro narrowed his eyes at the boy, “You wouldn’t.”

Keith adjusted his backpack strap, “Try me.”

They did a quick stare down before laughing and turning back towards the cafeteria.

“Keith, come on, let’s at least go to Chick-Fil-A or something. I work here and even I know the cafeteria food blows,” Shiro groaned as they rounded the corner and the full smell of the cafeteria food hit them.

Keith shuddered at the grease in the air, “As tempting as that sounds, I’ll pass. I want to save my dining dollars. Spread them out over the semester.”

Shiro laughed, “Oh yeah. Didn’t you blow through those in like, what, _a month_ last semester?”

“Mhmm. And I learned my lesson,” Keith affirmed, stopping their walk to fish around in his pocket for his campus ID card, “From now on, on-campus restaurants only once a week. Twice, tops,” Keith dropped his backpack off of his shoulders to look in there.

“I swear, this stuff is worse than hospital food,” Shiro gulped, watching a far-off lunch lady put something questionably slimy onto a woman’s plate.

“Dammit!” Keith groaned, frustrated.

Shiro jumped, turning to then boy who had half-disappeared head first into his backpack. “What is it?”

Keith stood up, exasperated, wet hair sticking up in odd angles from him being upside down. “I fucking lost my ID card. How shitty can this day get?”

Shiro eyed the short-tempered boy with an amused smirk as he proceeded to throw a micro-tantrum in the middle of the hall. He’d seen him worked up like this before and knew it wasn’t just from a stupid ID card. So that could mean one of four things. 

Keith failed an exam? Nope. The semester just started. No exams to fail.

Keith’s favorite show got cancelled? Eh, last time Shiro checked, Shameless had been renewed for another season.

Keith was in one of his funks? Not on Shiro’s watch.

That could only mean one thing. One utterly hilarious thing. One perfect start to this semester that would carry Shiro through lecturing undergrads with a smile on his face for the next… forever.

“What’s his name?” Shiro asked smugly.

Keith’s head whipped up from where he was still rummaging through his pack.

“Wha-What?” Keith stuttered out.

Shiro clapped a hand on Keith’s back, then let go to pick up Keith’s backpack himself before heading to take his place in line.

“Come on, I’ll get your lunch today,” Shiro called over his shoulder to where Keith was still knelt in the middle of the hall like an idiot.

Shiro was already to the cash register by the time Keith finally snapped to his senses and caught up with him, yanking his backpack back so Shiro could fish out his wallet. Keith gave him an odd look.

“Don’t worry,” Shiro said, handing a $10 bill over to the lady running the register, “I won’t be doing this regularly. I’m just hungry and don’t want to wait on you getting another ID before I eat.”

The lady handed back the change and Shiro uttered a thank you to her as Keith did the same to Shiro.

“Also, don’t mention it. I’ve got your back.”

They fought the crowd in the lunch room, dropping their bags to secure a table (a major feat regularly, not to mention during the lunch rush) and then split off to get their food.

Five minutes later they were both sitting across from one another, half-heartedly poking at the barely edible, overcooked chicken and dry, sand-like rice.

“Y’know,” Keith started, talking around the Not Food in his mouth, “When I decided to come to a Southern university, I at least thought they wouldn’t serve such _white people food._ Southern white people at least use some spice, right? To make up for them voting for Trump?” Keith took another bite of the chicken before dumping a not-so-healthy pile of Tony Chachere’s on the cardboard-textured poultry- “I mean, Christ.”

Shiro laughed, reaching for the Tony’s himself, “The Southern white people I know at least cook right. Take Pidge’s family for example- they use enough Jalapeno to burn the hair off of your tongue.”

After taking a bite of his own food, Shiro sighed, “This is a different brand of white cooking. I can’t even fathom it. Institutionalized White Cooking is the only explanation.”

Keith grinned, taking a sip of his Dr. Pepper.

“So, who’s the guy giving you a mental boner? Or do I have to pry the name out of you?”

The aforementioned Dr. Pepper shot out of Keith’s nose. 

Shiro could barely see around the laugh-tears in his eyes as he reached for the napkins, chucking them gracelessly at Keith before wiping down his side of the table. Keith scrambled to clean up the liquid between coughs, also struggling to see through the tears in his eyes. Although, he wasn’t laughing. Far from it. He was currently trying to hide his distress from the ever-increasing stares they were garnering from the surrounding crowd of people also struggling to hork down their own inedible meals.

Still laughing, Shiro got up to dispose of the wet napkins while Keith regained his breath after almost drowning to death.

As soon as Shiro sat down, he whipped out his phone, snapping a pic of Keith’s red face mid-cough. Keith made an indignant noise in the back of his throat, grabbing for the phone across the table.

“Nope!” Shiro smiled evilly, “This is going in the group chat unless you tell me the name, age and major of the guy who literally has your hair in a knot.”

“Shiro, come on! That’s not fair!” Keith had half a mind to crawl over the sticky table to delete the blackmail.

“Name and major!” Shiro tucked the phone into his prosthetic’s grasp, knowing Keith wouldn’t touch it.

“OH! Real mature, _professor!_ ”

“If you think age stops you from playing dirty, then honey, you’ve got a big storm coming.”

“Don’t meme at me when I’m arguing at you!”

“Who is the guy?!”

Keith sighed, giving up and plopping back into his chair, the meal all but forgotten, “Lance,” he grumbled, “I don’t know his last name-“ Keith lied- “He’s just some guy I was partnered with for my acting project. Now, can we stop talking about this? He could be anywhere! I don’t know his schedule. He could overhear!”

Shiro nodded solemnly. “Talented?” He asked, seriously.

“He made me get a crush, didn’t he?” Keith grumpily replied, crossing his arms to end the conversation.

Shiro couldn’t be that easily swayed. 

“You know, I still remember your first crush,” Shiro turned back to his food to continue eating.

Keith groaned, “God, Shiro, must we do this?”

“We must,” Shiro affirmed, turning back to his now-cold chicken. “Come on, the guy was your Gay Awakening. Who could forget the look on your face when you came running to me for help?” Shiro started to mimic younger-Keith, “Taka! This boy makes my cheeks heat up! And my chest feels all light when we’re at recess together.”

Keith couldn’t help the little chuckle that escaped him at the memory. He really had no idea what to do. He had heard about his male classmates getting crushes, but they always talked about them being on the girls. So he thought it was something that just wouldn’t happen for him. That was until-

“Andrew Malloy was his name, right? Red hair? Missing his two front teeth?” Shiro asked.

Keith nodded, “Yup. He could shoot water through the gap in his mouth. I thought that was the coolest thing ever.”

Shiro pushed his food around his plate before eating another fork load. “I think I have a theory on your love life.”

“Other than the fact that I’m painfully gay?” Keith asked, “Also, if you ever cared about me, please never call it my ‘love-life’ ever again. I’m begging you.”

Shiro cleared his throat after a particularly rough bite of chicken dragged its way down. “Alright. But listen-“ he took a drink of water- “Every time you’ve had a crush- Andrew, Harry, Zac Baggins-“ Keith balked at the last one. Shiro continued- “Every time, without fail, it’s been because they were better than you at something. Maybe your affections stem from jealousy?” Shiro offered.

Keith sat there, chicken and rice now completely forgotten. It’s not like Shiro was wrong. But… he also couldn’t be right. He didn’t like people because they were _better than him._ He just liked talent and other people’s ability to do things he couldn’t. Who wouldn’t be in awe of Andrew’s ability to shoot water from a gap in his teeth?!

And this is what they argued back and forth for the rest of the meal. Albeit, Keith’s meal was rendered a bit soggy from the Dr. Pepper incident. But hey, at least it added some flavor that was previously lacking.

“Do you think that if you had died choking on Dr. Pepper, I could sue for medical malpractice?” Shiro asked when they went to put their dishes in the moving rack next to the kitchen.

Keith barked out a laugh, “Only if you fought through a manslaughter charge first. That was totally your fault!”

They passed by the desert bar on their way out and Keith snagged a couple of cookies as they passed and went out the doors into the Student Center. The dry chicken and rice would do little to hold him over until his Ramen dinner tonight so cookies would have to help.

Shiro checked the time on his phone, pulling it out of the secure grip of his prosthetic, “Okay well, watching you almost die over a new crush was fun and all but I have an intro to advanced physics class to teach and I gotta get going. Text me later so I know you got your ID replaced.”

“Okay, _mom_ ,” Keith said, then, “Hey, do you still do that thing where you take off your prosthetic and run in with ketchup on the end of your arm to freak everyone out?”

Shiro opened his jacket pocket, showing at least a dozen ketchup packets inside, “ _Obviously_ ,” He clasped his pocket shut again as they reached the doors. The drizzle had upgraded to a full-on downpour. Keith’s mood immediately took a southward turn again. “Tell this Lance guy that I’m a better actor than he could ever be,” Shiro nudged Keith’s shoulder, who, in turn, gave Shiro the evil eye. “What? I’m completely method. Lost my arm so I could pretend to lose my arm in front of a class of undergrads.”

“Those events are completely uncorrelated!” Keith called out to Shiro as the older man opened his umbrella and ducked into the rain.

“See ya, Keith!” Shiro turned to call to his brother before facing back to where he was going.

~~~

Keith had tried to wait out the rain in the Student Center but a quick check on the weather app on his phone told him that the rain wasn’t going to quit anytime soon. So Keith pulled himself up by his metaphorical bootstraps and braced himself against the cold winter rain.

The problem with going to a Southern university was the fact that it rarely snowed. The winter rain was just super cold and, without an umbrella, you’re basically screwed.

So, by the time Keith made it back to his dorm all the way across campus, he was so cold he was pretty sure his lips would be blue when he flipped on the vanity light and looked in the mirror. But, no. No blue lips. He was, however, correct earlier when he guessed that he looked like a drowned rat in comparison to Lance.

Keith peeled off his freezing wet clothes and hung them on the shower rod in the bathroom. Then he turned the water to the warmest setting, promptly disappearing under the warm stream. Ah, warmth. He had forgotten that it existed while out in that wintery hellscape. 

The now-warm boy was suddenly glad he didn’t have a roommate that semester. He stayed in the shower for an unhealthy amount of time, just letting the water warm his thoughts. Also, he left the door open so the steam would file out into the room. Steam beats central heating any day.

He only hopped out when the water started losing heat. Then he quickly pulled on a dry set of clothes before plopping down in his bed, hair still wet from barely being toweled off. The laptop whirred to life in Keith’s lap as he pulled his backpack up on the bed, too.

Yes, he was lame and already knocking out the day’s homework. So he didn’t want to fall behind just yet. Sue him.

Since the rainstorm outside paired with the fact that it was dead smack in the middle of winter made the sun practically non-existent, the afternoon drifted into evening almost unnoticed. The only reason Keith realized the passage of time was because the light coming from the vanity next to the restroom slowly became the only source of light in the room other than his laptop. Oh, and also some hunger pangs. That too. Food was somewhat of a thing that Keith needed to function.

The hot plate worked on boiling his noodles as he wrapped up his reading response for politics and his reading for his geology lab later in the week. Only one thing left for him to do. Open up Netflix and get busy rewatching Shameless.

The US version, of course.

It was while Keith was wrapped in his comforter- slurping up roast beef ramen, watching as Frank Gallagher once again drank himself into a stupor- that a chime went off on Keith’s phone. Without thinking, Keith reached for it. Without looking, Keith opened his phone with his thumbprint. Without worrying, Keith looked down at the text he received.

Without warning, Keith choked on his noodles.

 _Hey, Keith! Still free tonight? ;)_ -Lance


End file.
